Author's Note: This is my very first fanfic up on the interwebs ever! I'm kind of nervous, but what the hell, I'll go for it anyway xD

Beyond Birthday was strange.

As an infant, he seemed unresponsive to normal things that most children his age would like; shunning his toys, and paying kid's shows on the TV no mind. What Beyond Birthday seemed to enjoy the most was grabbing at a space just over people's heads. His parents were worried to say the least, their child was seemingly groping at something unseen by the rest of the world… which was entirely truthful. Beyond Birthday was born with a gift. Beyond had been born with the eyes of a shinigami, a death god. He was able to see the world in an entirely different way. When he laid eyes on a person's face, he saw, not only, that person, but also their true name and their lifespan.

Of course, Beyond, being a child, and never been told that he was different, thought that everyone viewed the world this way, which brings him to his first realization that he was, in fact, different. Beyond Birthday, a seemingly normal five year old, sat alone under a tree in front of the door to his kindergarten class, eyeing the other children from a distance. His luminous red eyes made some of the other kids shrink back in fear and whisper amongst themselves about how strange he looked with his wild black locks of hair, bloody pools of eyes, pallid skin, and odd, and uncomfortable looking posture. Beyond shrugged them off, because their reactions did not surprise him. He was an extremely intelligent child, a genius, in fact, and easily recognized that his eyes were oddly colored and that they made people unnerved.

After a few moments of awkward eye contacts with the other students, the door opened, revealing a very cheerful looking man, wearing an ear to ear smile. "Good morning!" he called out with vigor. Some of the other children clutched their parent's pants, not wanting to leave, but Beyond strode right up to the pleasant looking man and said "Hi, Duncan Rodman, I'm Beyond Birthday." The good-natured man faltered, obviously put off by the five year old's knowledge of his full name and sophisticated manner of speaking. "Hi there, welcome to your first day of school!" he replied, despite his nervousness. Beyond shuffled into class, removed his backpack, and hung it on the hook that had his name card next to it. Mr. Rodman turned around, about to tell Beyond what to do, to find the child crouched on the floor under a desk, backpack already hung up, and name card already placed onto the front of his baggy white shirt. The teacher shook his head and continued to greet the new kindergartners and help them find their names on the wall of backpack hooks. Finally, after the educator was finished greeting the young students, he sat them down in tables and started to take roll.

During this usually uneventful task, Beyond found something out about himself. The teacher explained to the kids that when he called their names, that they were supposed to reply, showing their presence in class. He started down the list, Beyond being second, right after a boy named Spencer Adams. The problem came when the list happened upon a young girl called Jenny. The teacher called, "Jenny Lambert" but a girl who's name was obviously not Jenny Lambert responded. Beyond was baffled as the girl, clearly labeled "Clara Lambert" told the teacher that she was present. Beyond raised his hand. The teacher politely called on him, "Yes Beyond?" he asked.

"Why did you call her Jenny?" the curious boy asked.

"That's her name, did you mistake her for someone else?" the teacher responded, confused.

Beyond checked the red name floating above her head, knowing that the letters and numbers never lied.

"No it's not, her name is Clara, you must have read the wrong name. Look at her name, it's right there," Beyond told him, not knowing that he was the only one that could see them. "Right where? What are you talking about, Beyond?" Mr. Rodman's curiosity started to change to annoyance.

"Just look at her name! It's right there, look!" Beyond hollered, pointing at the girl in question. Well, to be exact, right above the girl in question's head.

Just then, the girl started to shiver.

"Don't call me that…Daddy used to call me that…" the girl almost whispered.

"What?" the educator said incredulously, not understanding the situation at all.

"My daddy used to call me Clara… He's gone now though, Mommy doesn't know where he is." Clara sniffled. Beyond wasn't trying to make the poor girl cry, he just wanted to help, but now, he couldn't help but feel bad for the child.

"Sorry Cla-Jenny, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings…" Beyond mumbled, head turned down in shame.

"Beyond I'll talk to you after class, is that ok?" The teacher told him.

"Yes sir."

After class, the confused teacher had asked what Beyond had meant when he said "Her name's right there" and pointed to above her head, and why he knew her real name at all. Beyond simply nibbled his thumb and stared at Mr. Rodman, not responding. The educator sighed and sent the boy out to the playground, still perplexed, but hoping that nothing else strange involving that boy would happen.

Of course, that didn't work out in his favor though. No matter where Beyond Birthday went, strange events always followed him. The next month, the school held a mandatory medical examination. All kindergarten students were to be tested for hearing, eyesight, color blindness, and lice. For Beyond Birthday, all tests went perfectly until he reached the color blindness test. Since his eyes made the world look like shades of crimson, when he took the colorblindness test, he responded that that there were words, but they were just different shades of red. The two nurses exchanged confused glances and asked him to try a different test. Beyond responded with the same results, telling them that the letters were simply different shades of the same red color that made up his world.

"What do you mean, everything's red?" the nurse asked doubtfully.

"I mean what I say, everything is red, the sky, you, the buildings, the letters, the numbers, everything is a different shade of red," the young Birthday boy replied again.

"Hmm. Well, you seem to be developing normally, so it doesn't look like it'll affect you in the long run. I'll check back on you in a while Beyond," the nurse informed him.

"Thank you for your time Ms. Brown," Beyond replied in a very refined manner. All the teachers up to the third grade were fascinated with Beyond Birthday, not quite understanding why the young boy was so intelligent, but that he was, without a doubt, a child prodigy.

The months went by, and near the halfway mark in the year, Beyond was going to the third grade classes, picking up text books and homework because he was bored with the work his kindergarten class. When he was at home, he blazed through the homework, and got to doing things that interested him. He had checked an anatomy book out of the school library, and at present was drawing detailed diagrams of various organs and structures of the human body. The illustrations were flawless freehand copies of the pictures in the textbook. Beyond Birthday had parents, as most children do, but they played a minimal role in his life. He didn't seem to notice though, as he was busy doing what he loved most: learning new things. He always loved aquiring new information, to store in his head, knowing that everything could come in handy at some point. Sometimes, though, Beyond ended taking things too far for the other children in his class.

During the simple math that his teacher taught the children, Beyond decided to pull out a piece of plain white paper and a pencil, and started to draw. (Having already finished the addition problems without a single mistake.) He started sketching, in excruciating detail, the circulatory system of the human anatomy. A girl that sat next to him leaned over to copy Beyond's answers, caught a glimpse of something unexpected.

"EEEWWWW BEYOND, THAT'S GROSS!" the little girl squealed. The teacher, wanting nothing but to have a normal class, lifted his head tiredly, and responded to the girl's cry, "What is it this time, Beyond?"

"Nothing sir, I'm just drawing because I finished the math work. Is there something wrong?" the boy asked innocently.

"What have you drawn? Bring it up here," Mr. Rodman requested. Beyond silently complied, standing and taking his picture up to the front of the class, to the teacher's podium near the whiteboard. The educator looked down, expecting something worthy of a kindergartner, but found disturbingly accurate diagrams of his insides.

"Beyond…what is this?" he asked, slightly horrified.

"That would be the human circulatory system Mr. Rodman, why do you ask? Did you not take any anatomy classes?" Beyond asked, with his head cocked curiously to the side.

"No Beyond, I haven't," Mr. Rodman replied, obviously fed up with the boy.

"Oh," the raven haired child breathed simply. He left his diagram on his teacher's desk and made his way slowly back to his own and sat down. After that ordeal, Beyond decided against drawing in class anymore. A wise choice on his part.

A year later, in first grade, Beyond Birthday was still fascinated by the human body. Unhealthily so, at times. Especially when he decided that he wanted to see what it actually looked like on the inside of a person. (Because, people always told him "it's what's on the inside that counts" he wanted to see it in person.) As of late, his parents had grown even more distant. That's why he chose them.

"Mom, Dad, I made you coffee," Beyond said cheerfully, as he handed his parents mugs of "coffee". They both thanked him and started drinking.

His mother was the first to fall.

As soon as she collapsed, Beyond got to work. He hit his father on the back of his neck with whatever he could grab at the moment, which ended up being his father's foldable walking stick he used for climbing. He pushed his father off the bed and onto the floor, where Beyond slid on a pair of thick latex gloves. He picked up a rope and skillfully tied his father's hands and feet together behind his back with a knot a boy scout would be proud of. He then turned his attention to his mother. Beyond picked up the small kit of tools that he had stolen from a pawn shop a few weeks earlier. The boy spread the kit out on the bedside table: a kit of old medical supplies. He picked up the scalpel and caressed the handle lovingly.

"Oh," he exclaimed quietly, and shuffled over to his room to grab a few more short lengths of rope and a strip of flannel, and brought it back to his parent's bedroom. He started tying his mother's hands and feet to the bed so that if she did wake up, she would be unable to harm him. Finally, he tied the white fabric around his mother's mouth, effectively gagging his mom. He selected a pair of shears and gingerly started cutting his mother's shirt off. Once her clothes were completely cut off, Beyond replaced the shears with a scalpel. He also had donned a surgical mask. The young boy pressed the scalpel to his mom's body and started to make an incision from her right shoulder blade to her solar plexus, and likewise from her left shoulder. Now, extending the point downwards to just past her belly button, effectively creating a Y cut fit for a coroner. He pealed her flesh back, a hidden maniacal grin on his face, under the green mask. He chuckled as he started identifying the organs inside of his mother, silently appreciating the perfection of the human anatomy. He tenderly caressed her womb, appreciating the structure that nurtured him for the first nine months of his existence. Much to his surprise, his mother's fingers started to twitch. He raised his head slowly, curiously, only to lock eyes with his mother.

"Why?" her muddy eyes seemed to ask.

"Hello there mother," Beyond said happily, as if nothing was wrong with the world. She tried to scream, but the gag prevented her. He looked, interested in the way her diaphragm expanded as her futile attempts at yelling trailed off.

"You should be more quiet mom, unless you want me to damage your larynx, so that you couldn't talk even if you wanted to. Well I suppose it doesn't exactly matter, you won't be making it out of this room alive anyway. So go ahead and try to scream if you wish," the youngest Birthday said thoughtfully.

As he ravaged her insides, her quiet whimpers grew more and more frantic. Soon, he had eviscerated his mother completely, and he was growing tired of her.

"Well, as interesting as that was, all good things must come to an end. See you on the other side, Mother," Beyond murmured, as he placed his hands on her forehead and the back of her skull and twisted them, snapping her neck effectively.

He then set his sights on his father, who hadn't woken up yet.

"How boring. Maybe I hit him too hard…" he wondered aloud. Beyond Birthday decided to try a test of strength next. He picked up the heavy walking stick and brought it to his father's unmoving mass. He brought the stick high up over his shoulders, and swung it down, striking his father's head that emitted a sickening, but exciting crack. Beyond crouched down and poked the older man's head, feeling the skull bend under the pressure. He chuckled and struck his father again with the stick, but this time, bludgeoning his father's head in a bloody implosion. He grinned from ear to ear, and laughed like a child on Christmas day. He laughed for well over ten minutes, going into hysterics, and finally calming down enough to start his cleanup.

The rest of his plan went accordingly. After burning all of the evidence, he smeared his hands with some of his mother's and father's blood and ran across the street, acting the part of a panicking child perfectly. The neighbors called the police, and the murder investigation followed shortly after the bodies were taken from the home. Nobody was found responsible for the killings, so things returned to normal, except that Beyond had nowhere to live.

The child protection agency placed Beyond Birthday into an orphanage after evaluating his mental status and finding him to be stable. His talents were recognized by a man named Quillish Wammy, who gave Beyond Birthday a place at the Wammy's House, an orphanage for gifted children to succeed L, the greatest detective in the world.

That's the story of Beyond Birthday's childhood, but the rest is history, the Las Angeles BB Murder Cases followed when he was a young adult, and Kira passed judgment on him in 2003.

R.I.P. Beyond Birthday: Genius, murderer.

Author's Note: Well, that's it! Did you like it/love it/hate it? Some feedback would be awesome, and you know where the review box is… xD